Top 5 Songs About Time

1. I'm Not Growing Old - Origin


2. Holding Back The Years - Simply Red


3. This Time of Year - Better Than Ezra


4. Turn Back The Clock - Johnny Hates Jazz


5. Wasting Time - Jack Johnson

Maybe Baby

Babies. There are babies all around me. Half my book club is either pregnant (or just had a baby) or giving birth soon. I am knee deep in the time of life that produces babies for everyone. Well, mostly everyone. And it has been on my mind. A lot. I talk to my friends who are having firsts. I commiserate when needed and listen when needed. And through it all, I've found a surprising thing. I'm ok. I'm more and more sure in our road of only-ness. I rarely have a thought of 'what might have been'. Mourning for my baby girl never to be is so infrequent, now, and all I really think about is our journey. And what I would tell my 25 year old self, if I could.

I'm not sorry we waited to have Sammy. At all. We were told time and again how we would someday regret waiting, but that day still is not here and likely to never come. However, I DO know now that I would have been sorry had we not had him at all. The people who warned me about that are completely right. There is nothing like having a kid and if I had missed out on it due to my vanity or pride, I would have regretted it until the day I died. And probably then some. But I'm so glad I didn't have a kid during my 20s - my first marriage. That would have been the wrong thing to do. I knew it then and know it now. It wasn't in my story.

I'm a little jealous of the journey my friends are about to have - one of so, so many firsts that you think your heart will burst. Of seeing that face for the first time. Of being there for that incredibly difficult first year that you wouldn't trade for anything. I once read that having a child is like having your heart broken open and I've never agreed with anything more. I have an entirely new set of words to describe life that you can't understand unless you've been there. And I don't say that to non-parents for the fun of it. It's simply true.

I would tell the past me to grow up. Stop being afraid. Stop trying to stick my non-conformist flag in this particular hill because it's not particularly new. Or charming. Or non-conformist. It's a schtick that no one wants to hear about and when you cry and wail about your list of reasons not to have a kid, all you are doing is alienating the women who love you and want to help. There is a reason you protest too much. Deal with the root and be quiet. Work it out in private and hold on to the wisdom of the women around you. You will need it.

Parenting is the hardest thing I'll ever do, but nothing beats my kid's arms around my neck with a whispered "I love you more than the Earth!". And how ridiculous it seems, seeing such a simple thing in writing and knowing that it is far from simple. It is the most complex relationship in the world. You will not know what you are doing. Ever. You will hate it and want out, swearing you made a mistake. Probably more than once. Which is why it's so important to surround yourself with friends and love. Shut out the negative early and often. When you plunge into depression that first year, it's not noble to shut everyone out and go it alone. It's when people are needed the most. Because it IS hard. It IS messy. It WILL drive you crazy. But it IS all worth it. Somehow. One of God's miracles, I believe.

I'm ok with our path. It wasn't "normal" or accepted, really. And it certainly wasn't the one EITHER of us anticipated, but it was right for us. It produced hard things. It produced an unshakable bond. It produced a family. Of course I'm ok with it. Now. And while my wistfulness for what could have been is small, it's sometimes there and that's ok too. I was robbed of so much after we had Sammy and coming to terms with it all was (IS!) so tough. But it's doable. Seeing my life, now, I get it. I've had answers and small tender mercies that show me it's ok. But I get that I needed the trail to walk. To learn to be alright. With everything. No. Our story isn't culturally "normal". But it's our story and I find I wouldn't change anything that's made us, us. A family of three. And so worth it.


(this woman's work, kate bush)

A Photograph

I often wonder what someone looking at our snapshots of life, without knowing any other details about us, would think of us. What story do those shots tell?

My friend Kim posted a month or so ago about taking a snapshot of her kids the same day every month to mark the changes in them and their lives. That idea has been percolating in my mind ever since. The 27th is both Sammy's birth day and our anniversary day, so I thought that would be the perfect day to try this, needing an easy reminder day. We'll see how I do. And will continue to wonder what people think when they catch glimpses of this little life we're carving.

January 27, 2012:


(us, last night...me, relaxing after a rough head-achy day, Isaac just home from work and the boy heading to bed...picture, blurry and quick because I nearly forgot before I even began.)


(if you were here, thompson twins)

Girls, Girls, Girls

I've always been a guy's girl. I relate more to them. They've always been better friends. It was a tough transition after I got married to cultivate women friendships because I'm not the best at them. I don't get the women drama, I think. I've been lucky, lately, at finding women who are similar in eschewing that stereotype, as well, so that has definitely helped, but when I find myself embroiled in a high school-esque drama situation, I feel helpless and so very confused. Why can't all friendships be easy and drama free? Why can't we all just say what we mean, take breaks in the relationship as needed and just...be there for one another? Why the high school drama tactics to the women who are supposed to mean the most to us? I live in a simplistic ideal, clearly.

I've begun to notice that this confusion extends into moms needing to trump other moms, as well. I had forgotten how cutthroat the business of first babies can be, but have been observing it from the sidelines with my friend. A 37 week pregnant "I'm tired and uncomfortable" becomes a one-upmanship free for all. "You think you're tired now? Just you wait." "Oh. I hear you. I am EXHAUSTED today with my kids running around." "Try sleeping with a toddler AND being pregnant!" And I just want to say...REALLY? Why can't we say anything helpful? Why do we have to be top martyr in the game of life and make everything all about us? Why can't we just say..."Oh, man. I'm so sorry! I remember how miserable that is. What can I do to help?" Playing the "Just you wait" game is not helpful. You don't know what my kid is going to be like next year and just because your little Beelzebub was a certain way doesn't mean mine will be and even if he is? Not my concern right now. My concern is the here and now in my parenting journey and I need empathy and support. Not judgey holier than thou narcissistic warbling. I know I've been guilty, but I've been trying to be super aware of how I phrase things and being more empathetic and less self involved. Because why do we feel the need to make everything a competition? Everyone's journey is different and we all are doing our best. HELPFUL hints. HELPFUL comments. Support and a well placed "how can I help". That's what we need. Because sleeping 27 years pregnant does suck. No matter if it's your first, third or 20th. No one upping needed, there.


(pretty boys and pretty girls, book of love)

You Know, Don't You?

You know those moments in life when you find yourself enveloped in a great big ball o' pity? That was me this past week. BEYOND in a funk. Blinding rage for anything and everything in my path. I withdrew in person and online until I could get a handle on it. Which I did. Mostly. Laughing so hard you cry at Starbucks with friends also helped. It always does.

I have nothing in my life that's just for me. Wow. Talk about sweeping generalizations! But I feel it's true. I gave up writing, because that wasn't happening and now I'm left with...well, blinding murderous rage, apparently. And little else. I have nothing I'm good at. I have no career and no hobbies. This "mom" thing is taxing most days and I don't feel I'm very good at it, so that leaves me feeling very empty, indeed.

The real problem, however, is I'm rooted in confusion to the point that I don't know what to do to FIX this. I have no solutions. I have no answers. I have no plan. And that is frustrating me greatly, because at 38 years old, one would think I would have a plan. Instead, I just feel lost and empty and so confused and so very ashamed that I have wasted so very long chasing a dream that is clearly not going to pan out only to be this old and have no other purpose. What exactly happened? And what do I do about it? I have no answers right now. But I need to find some before I go completely insane.


(kiss with a fist, florence+the machine)